


Take Back What's Yours

by LOVETALKHENDERY



Category: NCT (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band), SF9 (Band), TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band), WAYV, Winner (Band), iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Bullying, Character Death, Child Abuse, Death, Kidnapping, Murder, My First Fanfic, Nightmares, Organ Transplantation, Other, Psychopath, Street fighting, Tattoos, Violence, hendery is really fucking cool, slight mention of animal abuse, underground crime, vampire beomgyu, vampire hendery, vampire seokwoo, vampire wonwoo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:33:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25399213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LOVETALKHENDERY/pseuds/LOVETALKHENDERY
Summary: "Don't you know that it's rude to take something that isn't yours? Especially someone's heart?"Wong Kunhang is a quiet high school student, but he is rather manipulative. With his best friend, Choi Beomgyu, the pair are suffering through high school. No matter how normal Kunhang tries to live his life, his strange vampire side will always penetrate.Nightmares curse his sleep, hazy scenes of something gory flashing through his mind. He wants an answer, an explanation for it, but Kim Seokwoo, his non-blood-related brother, never tells him anything.It's not until he meets a certain someone from his past that it all comes back to him, his dark and horrific past. He wants revenge, he wants to take back what's his. And he'll go to any extent to do so.WAYV  x TXT x SF9 x SVT x MOBB VAMPIRE x CRIME AU(moved from Wattpad to AO3) (Wattpad in bio)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. I

It was pitch black and dead silent in a deserted area of Icheon. A black van cruised along the bumpy dirt road that led to somewhere out right on the outskirts of the city. In the van, a group of seven-year-old children in dirty white hospital gowns were huddled up in the dark behind of the van. Their hands were tied with tight rope and they were forced to be silent by terrifyingly uptight guards with threatening knives.

Muffled whimpers came from most of them and a fair few shed tears of fear. They knew their impending fate, their childhood about to be thrown away after this one car ride. Well, those children never had a childhood in the first place; taken away from them at birth.

However, tucked away in the corner of the back of the van, a young Chinese boy hugged his knees to the best of his ability and stared into the darkness, the tinted windows providing an extremely dimly lit view of the terrified children that filled his vision. He couldn't care less about those children, he had no connection with them other than being part of the same shit. He only cared for himself, the one who would never leave him, the one that would stay with him his entire life.

The young boy was snapped out of his thoughts when the bumpy ride came to an abrupt stop, making everyone's whimpers and tears halt. Even the boy could feel the fear running through his veins, terrified of his impending fate. No. He was not losing his childhood to some greedy ass's desire for money.

Unbeknownst to everyone around him, the young boy was incredibly smart and calculating, able to think on the spot quickly and calmly. He formulated a basic yet risky plan of how to get out of this tight situation. He knew the risk he was about to take, but he had to do it for the sake of himself. This wasn't selfishness, it was claiming what's yours.

He shuffled closer to the larger crowd, ensuring none of the uptight guards were watching him. Although it was painful due to the restrictions the drug had on him, the boy unleashed his fangs. The pain from the fangs piercing through his gum was excruciating and slow, but the boy kept his whimpers as quiet as he could and blinked his tears back. Other kids noticed what he was doing but decided to not pay any attention to him.

Suddenly, as the numbers grew closer and closer to his, he stabbed his fangs into the nearest person around him, making the little girl wail with pain. The boy kept sucking her blood while the guards tried to pull him off, the little girl dying quickly.

By the time the guards pulled him off the girl, she fell onto another scared child limply, her neck and left shoulder of her tattered hospital gown stained bright red with her fresh blood. The boy was rather satisfied with what he had just done, but he could find time to dwell on that later.

"Take #101 to the basement ASAP!" The guard ordered, dragging #101 out of the van by his collar. With much struggle, #101 managed to contort his arms and steal the knife that the guard and stored loosely in a holder. #101 riskily cut the ropes that bound him and stabbed the guard's thigh angrily. Surprisingly, the blood splattered onto his face.

He ran. As expected, guards chased after him, shooting their guns they only used in what they considered to be extreme emergencies. For instance, a victim running away would be considered an extreme emergency in the sadistic eyes of those guards.

He had no idea where to run. He had no family or friends and the city was too large and terrifying for him to handle on his own. He tried not to think about it and just run, run as far as his tiny, weakened legs could take him. The only weapon he was equipped with was the bloody knife he used to stab the guard.

His train of anxious thoughts was interrupted by a piercing feeling in the back of his neck, making him hiss and stumble for a second. He powered through it, ignoring how painful it was to run with a bullet lodged into the back of his neck.

He ran blindly into a dark forest, the dead leaves crunching underfoot. He knew he had lost the guards, but he still ran. From time to time, he would feel dizzy but stumbled on.

Unfortunately, the body of a drugged seven-year-old could only bear so much, and #101 began stumbling from dizziness before falling onto the ground. His breathing became shaky as he lost more blood, his eyes fluttering and threatening to close. He never expected he would die in this way. His entire plan was ruined because life had yanked the metaphorical rug from under his feet, rendering him helpless and dying.

A dark, tall, lean figure entered #101's blurred vision. His eyes were fluttering far too much to determine a gender or face, but all he knew was that this person was presumably a guard and that he was done for. This can't be how I go, this can't be how I go, this can't be how I go, this can't be how I go, this can't be how I go, he chanted that in his head over and over again since he was incapable of speech.

Strangely, the male stepped closer to his dying body and bent down, examining it. #101 could see blurred facial features and knew that this couldn't be a guard. Guards all had much pudgier faces and crankier expressions.

The male's cold fingers ghosted the wound, making #101 shiver from the sudden chills. Suddenly, the male scooped him up and began walking away. #101 tried to keep his eyes open for as long as he could, but his eyes eventually succumbed into the sweet release of death.

#101's world went pitch black like his surroundings.


	2. II

Jeon Wonwoo sat on the left side of the bed that the child was being treated on. There was nothing but the sound of the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor machine and quiet snores from the child that laid weakly in bed could be heard in the brightly lit bedroom.

"How is he?" Wonwoo asked, resting his elbow on his knee and his hand on his chin. He swung his leg over his other one and faced Seokwoo with an expectant expression. Seokwoo bit his lower lip in consideration, wondering how he was to break it to Wonwoo.

"This is rather unexpected and I have no idea if this is possible," Seokwoo admitted, clicking his tongue. Wonwoo's expectant expression fell into one of annoyance, hating Seokwoo's overdramatic and suspenseful mannerisms.

"Skip the bullshit and get to the diagnosis," Wonwoo deadpanned, his voice dropping an octave lower than his usual deep voice. With a heavy sigh, Seokwoo explained his diagnosis, making the already little colour in Wonwoo's face drain significantly.

"On a lighter note, though, he may have forgotten most of whatever he had been through due to extreme shock and exposure to abuse at such a young age," Seokwoo concluded, his eyes full of pity laid on the young boy that unconsciously rested on the bed. "Poor soul, it's a shame what sick bastards put kids through nowadays." He pitied, staring at the unconscious child.

"I thought you took away lives, not pitied them," Wonwoo remarked.

"I have my exceptions, okay?" Seokwoo grumbled sassily, a frown on his face.

"Clearly," Wonwoo agreed. "Beomgyu is our prime example." At the mention of Beomgyu, a young brunet walked into the room and sat on the bed, ginger not to sit on the unconscious boy. It had been so long since Beomgyu had seen another child his age, so to finally see someone of his age was refreshing.

"Who's this?" He inquired, glancing at Wonwoo in fear. There were many times where Beomgyu had been told by Seokwoo that Wonwoo was a kind soul with a troubled past, but that couldn't bottle the fear that Beomgyu felt around him. He was scared to ask basic questions because Wonwoo was so strict.

"A kid we're taking in," Wonwoo replied. "We don't have any name or information, but I assume he has something to do with those bastards; probably a victim of their schemes. He's basically your brother." He continued, bringing a smile to Beomgyu's face.

Brother. Despite having Seokwoo and Wonwoo for company, Beomgyu still longed for more company. He was lonely in the simple house in the middle of the woods, its original white walls covered in branches and dirt. He could feel his heart fill up at the sight of the unconscious boy.

"He'll be going through everything I went through, right?" Beomgyu asked Wonwoo, who nodded sternly in reply. Beomgyu nodded in understanding and the room fell into silence. 

"When's he waking up?" Wonwoo questioned, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen upon them. 

"It's uncertain," Seokwoo replied. Just as he said that a choked groan erupted in the room, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. 

#101's eyes fluttered open as the sound of a conversation filtered through his ears, a conversation about him. Immense pain hit him like a truck and he felt like he was dying. His could feel himself gasping for air as he felt his insides clench painfully. He was in dire need of blood but he couldn't voice it, it hurt too much to do so. 

"Fuck!" He heard a smooth voice curse bitterly. Fighting for his life, he hardly realised that someone was piercing a tattoo into the back of his neck, the needle nothing in comparison to the pain he felt fighting for his life. 

"Blood..." he choked out before he felt the thin needle was taken out and another was stabbed into his bicep. #101 could feel himself regaining life because of the second needle, his eyes finally opening wide enough to absorb his surroundings. The room was simple: a plush double bed, white curtains covering the blackened windows, bedside tables sat on either side of the bed (one of which had a lamp) and a small frame hung on the wall with a picture of the three people sitting around him. 

"What's your name?" The one with plump lips asked, a gentle smile on his face. 

"I-I don't know, I've just been called #101 for all I can remember," He replied, a little scared of the unfamiliar man sitting in front of him. #101 watched the man who had just spoken glanced up at the terrifying one that sat on the other side of him. 

"Kunhang, Wong Kunhang," the child his age spoke. #101, or Kunhang according to the child, was shocked. How did he know his name? "That's what your name is." He concluded as if #101 or Kunhang had no idea what he was talking about. 

"H-How did you know?" He asked. 

"I dunno, I just do," the child shrugged. "Anyways, I'm Choi Beomgyu, your new brother." Beomgyu smiled at Kunhang, who smiled back shyly. The idea of a normal life with a brother was almost surreal to Kunhang, who had grown up being abused and tortured. 

"I'm Kim Seokwoo, basically your mum," the guy who had asked his name said, smiling and offering Kunhang a hug. Kunhang stared at him cluelessly, wondering what that gesture meant. "Right, not a hugger I see." He said, retreating his arms. 

"Jeon Wonwoo," the intimidating guy to his right said, his voice deep and sent chills down Kunhang's spine. "Don't expect your life to be all sunshine and rainbows, it's simply better than the conditions you were initially raised in." He warned, his expression just as flat as his tone. 

Beomgyu hummed in agreement. "He's right, you know. You'll be trained to be an assassin, you're gonna start taking lives." 

Much to everyone's surprise, Kunhang said, "Good. I'll take away their lives for putting me through hell. I'll ensure them a slow and painful death--" he determinedly looked at Wonwoo--"and that's a promise."


	3. III

Wonwoo had to leave for some mysterious reason, but Kunhang didn't press into it. For someone who had just awoken from being unconscious, been a victim of a near kidnapping and been shot, Seokwoo noted that Kunhang was extremely respectful. Any normal seven-year-old would nag someone about where their guardian was going, but Kunhang kept silent and simply watched him leave. 

"What should I do now?" He asked, tilting his head at Seokwoo. 

"Go freshen up and we'll have something sufficient to eat,” Seokwoo replied gently to the younger, standing and heading to the closet to take some clothes of his (Beomgyu, being stubborn, refused to allow Kunhang to use his clothes despite them being similar sizes). He handed them to Kunhang and the young boy left to freshen up, ginger to not hurt his bandaged leg. 

Seokwoo, although it was hard to believe he would ever say this, held respect for this young boy. He had gone through so much (presumably) yet he managed to have morals. 

After Beomgyu, Kunhang and Seokwoo ate dinner together, which consisted of an assortment of Korean foods cooked to perfection with a vampire twist to them, Wonwoo had returned, a scowl on his face. He was mumbling something about having to go somewhere in a few years and Kunhang and Beomgyu simply presumed that it was a meeting of some sort. Not even Beomgyu had any idea of what Wonwoo left so frequently for. 

“Feeling refreshed?” Wonwoo asked Kunhang, who nodded quietly. “Good, we can start right away.” He ushered Kunhang to follow him and told Beomgyu he could come if he wanted to. Being curious, Beomgyu followed with a very vague idea of what Wonwoo has in mind. 

He led the two seven-year-olds to the basement which doubled as a weapon storage room. Wonwoo swiped a beige fabric bag off of the ground and shoved a few weapons ranging of different types such as basic handguns, knives and Kunhang could have sworn that he saw Wonwoo throw a katana in there, but he decided to remain oblivious to the possibility. 

Wonwoo dragged the seemingly light bag along the floor as he guided Beomgyu and Kunhang out of the dusty basement and to the backyard. It was pitch black, making it a little challenging for Kunhang to see, but he still coped with it nonetheless. If there was one thing that he could say with certainty, it was that Wonwoo was someone not to be messed with. Kunhang could hardly imagine how dire the consequences would be if he were to get onto Wonwoo’s bad side.

“What are we doing out here?” Beomgyu asked nonchalantly. Wonwoo let go of the bag straps and brushed his dusty hands against his expensive pants as if they were nothing. 

“Simple, we’re here to learn how to use an assortment of weapons,” he replied. “Kunhang, in particular. I want to know how capable you are with weapons and where you have to improve.” He added, shifting his gaze to Kunhang. Kunhang didn’t know how to react to that statement. Was it a general statement or should he fear for his life and strive for nothing but perfection? 

“There’s no need to fear, Kunhang,” Beomgyu reassured after noticing Kunhang tense up. “Wonwoo isn’t that scary, just strict.” Kunhang admired Beomgyu for his confidence that he aspired to have, but that was taken away from him after that brutal ordeal he didn’t want to reminiscence much longer. 

“Sorry, a force of habit,” Kunhang apologised, flashing Beomgyu his sorry attempt of a smile. 

“You’re fine, let’s just get this done and over with so you don’t die from anxiety or something,” he joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. He was successful when he managed to get a genuine smile from Kunhang, which illuminate in the darkness. 

“Oi, kids, get over here,” Wonwoo ordered. Beomgyu and Kunhang snapped out of their little world and followed Wonwoo’s orders. Kunhang stood nervously beside Wonwoo whereas Beomgyu stood a little behind them since he knew what was about to happen. 

Wonwoo looked down at Kunhang and offered him a gun. With a gulp, Kunhang accepted the gun from Wonwoo, knowing how terrifying the consequences of defying Wonwoo’s orders would be. The metal was chilly and smooth against Kunhang’s now warmed hands, sending goosebumps travelling up his arms. He glanced up at Wonwoo, silently awaiting instructions. 

From the darkness, a pair of red eyes emerged, edging closer and closer to them. The beast revealed itself to be a raven wolf with a menacing, frothing mouth, a low growl rumbling from its throat. Kunhang had no fear of this predator because he knew it couldn’t harm him. He was immortal, after all. 

“Load the gun and shoot the wolf,” Wonwoo’s deep voice finally spoke. Kunhang looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows and dropped jaw. His side profile was dark and mysterious, but he still managed to look ethereal for someone who was presumably centuries old. He didn’t mind hurting humans for his survival, but killing an animal? Kunhang didn’t have the guts to do that. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Wonwoo questioned, meeting the young boy’s gaze. Shakily, Kunhang loaded the gun, turned the safety off and aimed at the wolf. He was having a battle inside of himself. Shoot the wolf, you’ll impress Wonwoo, his rational thinking said. Don’t, you can’t hurt an innocent animal like that, his emotional thinking urged. His finger hovered over the trigger, conflicted as to whether he should pull the trigger or not. 

“There is only one rule you should remember,” Wonwoo said, his gaze never leaving the wolf that was threatening to attack. “Don’t hesitate or else it will be too late.” As he said that, the wold began running towards Kunhang at top speed. Closing his eyes and hoping for the best, he pulled the trigger.   
BANG! Kunhang refused to open his eyes until the sound of pained whimpers filled his ears. He cautiously opened his eyes and saw the bullet lodged into its head, lying on the floor. Kunhang was glad he couldn’t see the blood that clearly or else he would feel like complete and utter shit. 

“Your aim is spectacular,” acknowledged Wonwoo. “However, there is lots of room for improvement. Especially about that cowardice of yours.”


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear the good stuff is coming

The sun was hidden by grey clouds, a storm threatening to be on its way. Leaves crunched underfoot as Kunhang, Beomgyu and Wonwoo ventured through the forest they lived in, weaponry hidden in Kunhang’s and Beomgyu’s bags. Silence befell on the trio, neither of them awake enough to say a word (Wonwoo was, it was just that he understood that the two younger thirteen-year-olds were too tired to talk). 

“Wonwoo, what are we doing here?” Beomgyu gathered the guts to ask. 

“Your final day of training before I leave for a while,” Wonwoo answered. For the past month, Wonwoo has warned them about the fact that their final day of training was edging closer and closer then they wouldn’t hear from him in a while. It made Hendery’s heart hurt because, although he was terrifying, Wonwoo had practically raised him. He was a father figure in Kunhang’s eyes, and Beomgyu would agree with him. 

“Oh,” Beomgyu replied, his voice expressing the hurt in his heart. Time truly flew with Wonwoo and his strict training sessions. Sure, Seokwoo was fun and a mother-like friend, but it would feel incomplete without Wonwoo’s opposite dynamic. 

“You mustn’t be hurt by this, boys, I’ll be back eventually, am I right?” Wonwoo was much more gentle with his tone that day. However, with his deep voice, it always held this aura of coldness. 

“Yeah, but, like, it’s gonna be strange without your harsh words and shit, y’know,” Beomgyu voiced both their thoughts. 

“Yeah,” Kunhang finally contributed, agreeing with Beomgyu. 

“You two haven’t changed one bit,” tutted Wonwoo, his eyes wandering the bare forest. “Any minute now.” He whispered. Silently and hastily, Beomgyu and Kunhang unloaded a weapon at random from the skinny bags. Kunhang pulled out a revolver while Beomgyu pulled out a long sword with a black rubber handle, specks of blood interfering with the shine of the sword. 

The trio split up and hid behind the tree nearest to them, the sound of low growling echoing throughout the silent woods. Beomgyu and Kunhang, who were somewhat close to each other, glanced at each other and nodded. Kunhang peered from where he was and aimed at the wolf coming for him, his finger slightly hesitant to pull the trigger.

“Remember the rule, Kunhang,” Wonwoo’s stern voice spoke from behind. 

Not removing his eyes from the slowly edging wolf, Kunhang flatly recited, “Hesitance is weakness, you must pull the trigger with no hesitation.” 

“If you know, then do it, hurry,” he demanded. Kunhang pulled the trigger and the wolf fell to the ground lifelessly, dark crimson blood staining the dirty leaves. The rest of the small pack turned and growled at Kunhang, noticing Beomgyu in the process. The four wolves split up, two going for Kunhang and the other two going for Beomgyu. 

Without hesitation, Kunhang shot the wolves who met a similar fate as the first, the two colliding and landing in a pile dangerously close to his “hiding spot” (which, honestly, didn’t do well as a hiding spot). He glanced up at Wonwoo who nodded at him, his way of acknowledging his efforts. It made Kunhang smile brightly, his ego boosted. 

Meanwhile, Beomgyu was aiming for something far bolder. He stood in front of the wolves’ course, his face glowing with confidence. As the wolves ran closer, he readied his sword. 

Closer. 

Closer. 

Shing! Shing! In a quick movement, Beomgyu had sliced the wolves and slid to the side as the wolves fell to the floor lifelessly, a cocky smirk oh his face. To ensure that he had done his job right, he stabbed both the wolves, causing blood to splatter all over his face. 

As a supportive brother, Kunhang cheered and Beomgyu ate it up, bowing to an imaginary audience. Much to both the brothers’ surprise, Wonwoo clapped. Not only for Beomgyu but for Kunhang too. This feeling of being praised felt so new to them since Wonwoo was always being picky about their skills, only pointing out their flaws. It undeniably hurt at first, but they grew accustomed to his strict ways of teaching. Hearing praise for the first time felt so uplifting yet alien. 

“And this concludes our training,” he announced. “Today, after I leave, you and Seokwoo will move to the city wherein you’ll start a more normal life. You must remember to keep feasting on blood and keep your skills in check, understood?” 

“Yes, Wonwoo, we understand,” the brothers replied in unison. They were going to miss the woods they grew up in; the woods they killed animals in; the woods where both of them had been saved.

“Enough of this,” Wonwoo deadpanned. “We’ll eat then move on with our lives.” 

***

A few hours later, Kunhang found himself moving heavy boxes of blood bags into the fridge that Seokwoo had moved beforehand, losing track of count after he reached about 50. The sounds of Beomgyu’s wails and complaints filtered through his ears as he quietly assisted with moving boxes of their possessions. It felt odd without Wonwoo, but Kunhang knew that he had no choice but to adapt to it. 

“You must adapt to change quickly. No matter how strange it feels without the presence of something that feels so natural, you must learn to adapt quickly. The world is so quick to change, and the things that feel normal will be snatched from you--” he clicked his fingers in front of his face and gently rested his arm at his side again-- ”like that.” 

Those words which were spoken to him when he was eight were implanted into Kunhang’s memory permanently, his way of comforting himself when he didn’t feel like asking someone else for help. A lot of the things Wonwoo had told him provided comfort to Kunhang despite being told to him so harshly. 

“BEOMGYU, WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING!” His train of thought was interrupted by Seokwoo’s complaint, causing him to turn and watch what was about to unfold. 

“WHAT DO YOU-” Before he could finish his sentence, Beomgyu tripped over a loose floorboard (Seokwoo and Kunhang knew about it) and the box of study books spilled and Beomgyu laid face flat on the floor. Kunhang burst into laughter whereas Seokwoo merely sighed. 

“And this is exactly why you should start listening to me, Choi Beomgyu,” Seokwoo hissed, making Beomgyu frown at him. 

“I’ll get used to it,” Kunhang reassured himself quietly. “I’ll get used to life without Wonwoo.”


	5. V

“Oi, Hang, get your lazy ass up we have- oh, you’re already ready,” Beomgyu barged into Kunhang’s room to see the older with his nose dug into a book, his expression poker and unamused. “Goddamnit, can you just let me scold you to wake up for once?” He whined. Kunhang glanced up and shook his head before digging his nose back into his book. 

“I won’t, now you hurry your lazy ass up before we’re both late,” Kunhang flatly retaliated, earning a loud whine from Beomgyu. 

“You’re no fun,” the ravenette mumbled before frantically running into the bathroom, a string of sour curses escaping his lips as he did so. It was unsurprising of Beomgyu to wake up late, try and scold Kunhang for waking up late, realising he was the one who woke up late and frantically ready himself for school. It happened at least once every fortnight and, though it didn’t seem like it, Kunhang found his incompetence amusing. 

Seokwoo peered into the living room, a sweet smile on his face. “Beomgyu woke up late again?” He inquired, laughing as he heard Beomgyu slip and curse loudly. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He answered himself. 

As Beomgyu finally readied himself, Kunhang was already out the door, trudging to the hellhole called school. Beomgyu easily caught up with his slow footsteps and flashed him a look of concern, knowing why he was acting like that. 

“Youngkyun and Hansol making you worried?” He inquired, a small tight-lipped smile on his face. 

“More like unwilling to simply endure their constant abuse of their so-called power over me,” Kunhang shrugged. “It’s not like I have a choice, though. If I were to do anything, they’d be as good as dead.” He reasoned mainly with himself, sighing in conclusion. 

“I mean, you are powerful when you’re mad, but boy, have you lost control over yourself,” Beomgyu mused, raising his eyebrows at Kunhang. 

Offended by the remark, Kunhang held Beomgyu in a chokehold which Beomgyu easily escaped from and twisted Kunhang’s hand behind his back, the latter indifferent to the retaliation. 

“Do you have, like, a grain of common sense? Which dumbass tries to put a street fighter into a chokehold?” Beomgyu laughed, freeing Kunhang’s arm. Kunhang shook his arm so that it felt natural and not as if it had just been displaced, though it probably hadn’t. Probably. There was always a possibility that his arm had actually been displaced and he could hardly feel the pain. 

Pain. Kunhang was practically immune to it. He felt no pain from all the pain he endured when he was young. Perhaps all the excruciating pain he had endured as a young child was a lifetime’s worth and he was destined to no longer feel pain. Perhaps the pain was destroying his body but he couldn’t sense it or do anything about it. He had no idea why he was like this, but it proved to be helpful. 

The pair arrived at school quickly and Kunhang was cautious to ensure he didn’t encounter Youngkyun and Hansol (or Hwiyoung and Vernon respectively). Bumping into the inseparable pair of bullies would be an utter nightmare to cope with. Kunhang nor Beomgyu had the effort or motivation to deal with them. 

“Wong Kunhang,” the familiar voice of Kim Youngkyun sneered. Beomgyu readied to fight them but Kunhang held him by the back of his shirt and forced him to walk away from his voice. 

“Listen, it’s too early in the morning for this so how about you shut the fuck up and keep away from those bastards? Do you have a single damned memory of what Wonwoo said?” Kunhang hissed so that they would raise no suspicion. Wonwoo was rather notorious in their area, they discovered, and if anyone found out that they were basically his sons, Kunhang and Beomgyu were dead men walking. 

“Yeah, of course, I remember,” Beomgyu replied in a hiss. “But just let me have a go at them. Just hearing their voice makes me wanna beat the shit out of them and suck the blood outta them.” He balled his hands into fists while glancing over his shoulder to see whether Youngkyun and Hansol were after them. Of course, they were. Unfortunately, the teachers -- and practically everyone in existence -- were against them and threw them in the same class as the infamous bullies. 

“You fight out of school, you don’t need to start shit at school with your temper shorter than your dick,” Kunhang forcefully guided them both into the classroom and threw Beomgyu into his designated seat in the back corner (assigned to him by the blatant social hierarchy the incompetent teachers turned a blind eye to). Kunuhang violently sat next to Beomgyu.

“Oh wow, you made a dick joke for once!” Beomgyu gasped exaggeratedly. 

“Just because I’m quiet and borderline terrifying doesn’t mean I can’t crack a dick joke every now and then,” Kunhang said, his face flat in annoyance. Beomgyu shrugged and laughed at his reply before allowing his smile to flatline at the sight of Youngkyun and Hansol waltzing into the classroom like they owned the place, which, according to the social hierarchy, was true.   
Kunhang placed a firm hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder to warn the growling boy to stay in place and not start a fight. Beomgyu understood the subtle cue and simply dug his long nails into his skin, accidentally drawing blood. Unfazed, Beomgyu brought his bleeding hand and licked his blood, ginger not to sink his fangs into his hand. 

Kunhang simply watched him in disappointment at his recklessness. Thank God hardly anyone was looking or else they would be dead vampires -- not really, they were immortal -- walking. The very few that saw threw looks of disgust at him and Beomgyu hissed silently at them, forcing them to look away. 

Hansol had, unfortunately, noticed them and hit Youngkyun, shamelessly pointing at him. The pair approached Beomgyu and Kunhang, leaning against Kunhang’s desk, which was next to the aisle, with attempts in looking intimidating. 

“Hey, vampires, meet me outside after class or else I’ll beat you black and blue,” Youngkyun threatened. 

“And why should we?” Beomgyu urged on Kunhang’s behalf, raising his eyebrows awaiting an answer. 

“I have a job for you. A very important one.”


	6. VI

“We don’t have to do this, Kun,” Beomgyu told Kunhang, who was heading to the back of the school to do what Youngkyun and Hansol so desperately required him to do. Kunhang’s footsteps were oddly--and annoyingly--fast since he was worried about his reputation. As stupid as it sounded, Kunhang and Beomgyu needed their reputation to stay as it was because that meant that no one would pry into their business. 

“For the sake of our reputation, we fucking do,” Kunhang hissed as he glanced over his shoulder before exiting the school building, swimming upstream through the annoying crowds and turning the corner into the area where the school kept the bins to see Hansol perched on one of the bins nonchalantly while Youngkyun leaned against the brick wall, complaining about how Hansol was being disgusting. 

“Well, look at what we’ve got here,” Youngkyun remarked, approaching Kunhang. Boldly, Kunhang put up a hand for him to stop where he was, making Youngkyun and Hansol huff in amusement. “What’s this newfound bravery you’ve got, Wong?” 

“Just tell me what you want me to fucking do and I’ll get it done and over with--no taunting, no bullshit,” Kunhang spoke in almost a growl. Beomgyu was simply standing behind Kunhang and allowing him to do as he pleased, ready to fight if Kunhang spoke too much.   
“Well, I suppose it’ll do no harm speeding up the process, but it would have been so much fun playing a few mind games before doing so,” sighed Youngkyun. Hansol threw him a baseball bat which he caught easily by the handle and he handed that to Kunhang, a prideful smirk on his face. Kunhang had a terrible gut feeling as to what was going to happen, but he awaited the news to be broken to him. 

Hansol quickly grabbed a kid’s bicep and threw him in front of Kunhang. The guy was a year younger than him with distinct yellow streaks in his raven hair. His eyes were dark and sharp and his lips were pulled into a large smile, quiet giggles eliciting from him. The graffiti kid, Kunhang thought, recalling what he had heard from other students. 

“You can’t hurt Yangyang,” the graffiti kid said, turning his head slowly to look Youngkyun in the eye with a crazed smile. “Yangyang lives forever, Yangyang can’t be destroyed-” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Youngkyun ordered with a scowl, kicking Yangyang--Kunhang assumed that was his name--in the face. Yangyang fell onto his shoulder laughing. (The fuck is wrong with this guy, Beomgyu thought, his face contorted in confusion. He’s absolutely crazy, a whole fucking psycho). Yougkyun looked up at Kunhang whose hands were gripped around the baseball bat. “I have a little theory to test about this fucker. He claims he’s immortal so you have no choice but to beat him to death and test it or else you’ll suffer his fate.” 

“Don’t you fucking dare do it, bastard,” Beomgyu hissed in his ear. 

“Hesitation is for the weak,” Kunhang recited in a whisper before swinging the bat and hitting Yangyang’s stomach. Yangyang coughed out blood, staining his white baggy hoodie and the blood. He kept his smile bright and crazed as the blood dribbled down his chin, tilting his head at Kunhang. 

“You are, indeed, right. Hesitation is for the weak. Hit me, prove him right,” Yangyang urged, spitting out some blood that muffled his speech. Accepting the challenge against Beomgyu’s wishes, Kunhang hit Yangyang over and over again, bruising his arms and making him spit out too much blood. His pure white hoodie, excluding the small coffee stain in the middle of the pocket, was stained a brilliant crimson. 

However, the thing that remained unwavering and prominent was his crazed and blinding smile. It angered Kunhang. How the fuck does his smile just stay like that? This guy is a certified psychopath, I’m sure of it, he thought. Frustration kicking in strong, Kunhang swung the bat at his head. Yangyang froze and fell onto his side, blood seeping from a wound hidden by his oddly neat hair. 

Hansol jumped back as the blood pooled dangerously close to his expensive sneaker. Anything could happen, but there could not be a droplet of blood on his sneakers or else he would do unfathomably murderous things to anyone who stood in his way.   
Youngkyun, on the other hand, was far more laid back about blood staining his clothes. Just stop being a baby and fucking clean the blood off if it gets on you, I thought it was simple, he would say quite often. He strolled through the puddle of blood and kicked Yangyang’s mobile body. 

A quiet cackle gradually grew louder and Yangyang weakly lifted himself to his feet, blinking as he tried to get his eyesight straight. Once he could focus again, he turned to the steadfast Youngkyun. 

“Yangyang told you,” he giggled before nonchalantly leaving as if nothing had happened. All four of the boys stood unmoving, still processing what had happened. Kunhang threw the bloodied baseball bat into the puddle of blood and steadily backed away. Taking advantage of their shock, he grabbed Beomgyu’s wrist and dragged him away from them. 

“Are you okay?” Kunhang asked once they were far enough from Youngkyun and Hansol. 

“I’m fine, but that Yangyang kid he’s-he’s-” Beomgyu was too shocked to finish his sentence. 

“A psychopath?”  
“Yeah, that,”   
“That’s physically impossible unless…”  
“Unless?”  
“Unless he’s a vampire like us.”


End file.
